


The Only Thing I Know is Real

by JustAWinchesterGirl



Series: Anything For Sam [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sam is seeing Lucifer, and jealous angry Dean sex, and lots of angst, set during s7, there's desperate crazy Sam sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAWinchesterGirl/pseuds/JustAWinchesterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Out With the Old, then during and after The Born-Again Identity.<br/>Sam is seeing Lucifer, and can only sleep when you're in bed with him. Dean, who you've been casually seeing, gets a little jealous at how close you're becoming with Sam, not fully knowing the extent of your relationship.<br/>The Reader makes her choice, but can she stick by it?<br/>Part 1 of a 3 part series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distract Me

You turn over in bed when you hear a noise coming from across the small motel room. One of Dean’s arms is around you and he's snoring contentedly into his pillow. You aren’t _dating_ exactly, you’d had the “let’s keep this casual” talk, but Dean is still a little possessive over you, so on nights like this when you're crammed into a tiny motel room during a hunt, you share the bed with Dean.

You had _slept_ with both of them, though. Though Dean wasn’t quite aware of just how involved you’d been with his brother, too. Despite seeing each other “casually” he was still jealous and possessive so you didn’t really share how much you did with Sam as well. You know Dean would rather be with you seriously, but you couldn’t do that to him when you harboured such strong feelings for both him and Sam. No, it was better for everyone if you just fooled around. Well, actually, it would be better if you stopped altogether but, come on, who has that much self-control?

Across the motel room, in the dingy light of the streetlamps coming in through the window, filtered by the thin red curtains, you see Sam, sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to you, with his head in his hands, shaking. You know he’s struggling with hallucinations from the cage, and he hasn’t slept in days. Quietly, careful not to wake Dean, you slip out from under Dean’s arm, out of bed, and stalk quietly over to him and place a hand gently on his shoulder.

He flinches and looks up at you with wild eyes, “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Sam, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says, sighing and calming himself down, “Yeah, I just- I can’t sleep.”

You nod, and push yourself closer to him, hugging his side. You feel like a hobbit pressed up against his humongous form, “Is he here?” you whisper.

Sam nods, “Right there,” he points behind you, “He’s uh- making some pretty lewd comments about you right now.”

“Well, he is the Devil,” you say jokingly, “He should know hot when he sees it.”

He lets out a low, humourless chuckle.

“Come on, Sammy, lay down. Ignore him,” you crawl under Sam’s covers and pull him up the bed with you.

Hesitantly, he crawls in beside you. He lies back against the pillows and you turn onto your side to face him, crawling under his arm and laying your head on his warm chest. He tucks your head under his chin, smoothing back your hair and kissing the top of your head. “I haven’t slept in days,” he groans quietly under his breath.

“I know,” you say, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“He doesn’t shut up,” Sam says, “Or sometimes, he DOES shut up, and then that’s almost worse because I know that the minute I start to drift off he’ll start- banging pots and pans, or set the bed on fire, or something.”

“Is the bed on fire right now?” you ask.

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes slipping closed, “No,” he whispers, “It’s quiet.”

You reach up to kiss his cheek, “Then try to sleep, Sam. While you have the chance.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, drifting off.

You hold your breath for almost a full minute after Sam closes his eyes, waiting for the freak out, but it never came. Finally, you let yourself lay your head back down on his chest and fall asleep.

* * *

 

When you open your eyes again, the sun is up, and you are alone in the wrong bed.

“Dean?” you croak, your voice not working quite yet, “Sam?” Then you remember why you are in the wrong bed, and sit up, “Sam?” you call a little louder, worry in your voice.

“He’s in the shower,” Dean says, walking over to you and handing you a cup of coffee, “I’d be a little ticked that you ditched me last night, but he slept all night! He still looks like shit, but at least he got some shut eye.”

You take one slow, heavenly sip of your coffee, “Good,” you say, “I thought he was gonna collapse from exhaustion one of these days. I wonder why Satan left him alone.”

“It was you, obviously,” Dean says.

“What?” you blink, “No. Why would it be me?”

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe Satan likes to cuddle,” he grins, “Who cares why, Y/N, the important thing is he got some sleep. Maybe he’ll finally be okay.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see how long this solution lasts,” says Sam, coming out of the bathroom, his jeans hanging low on his hips and his wet hair sticking to his skin. You are distracted by his back muscles contracting for a minute while he bends to ruffle through his bag for a shirt, and then by his arms, and hips, and stomach, as he pulls it on. As the last strip of skin above his waistline disappears below the fabric of the shirt, you bring your attention back to the conversation.

Dean seems to notice where your gaze is and clears his throat, frowning, “Well, look, I’m glad you’re getting some rest, and I’m perfectly willing to let the two of you go on cuddling if that’s what does it, but, uh- I’m not sure I’m willing to share- if you know what I mean.”

“Dean!” you chide, “We had this conversation.”

“He’s my _brother_ , Y/N! It’d be weird!” he counters.

“Hey, no one said anything about that!” Sam butts in, “I had one good night’s sleep because Y/N helped calm me down, ok? That’s all.”

“That’s all,” you repeat firmly, fixing Dean with a glare.

“Good,” he says, turning away from you to grab his guns and head out the door to the Impala, “Well if this conversation is over, why don’t we go kick some Leviathan ass?”

You jump out of bed and grab some jeans out of your bag, which you pull over the underwear that you’d slept in. It’s not like you had the luxury of a washing machine right now.

You catch Sam’s eyes watching the jeans slide up over your hips. “Thanks, for not telling Dean,” you say.

Sam shrugs, “He doesn’t need to know. He had you first, I respect that.”

“I’m not his, Sam,” you argue, “I told him I couldn’t be his.”

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N,” he says, stepping closer to you as you pull one of Dean’s button-ups over your tank top, “He’s my brother.”

“That didn’t stop you last time,” you mumble.

“I didn’t know he was in love with you last time,” Sam says, “ **I** wasn’t in love with you last time.”

“Sam,” you breathe, “Don’t. You can’t. It isn’t fair.”

Sam holds his hands up, “He had you first. I’m backing off. Thanks for helping me sleep, Y/N.” He shoulders his bag and follows Dean out to the Impala.

You watch him go, your heart torn in two, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. Distractedly, you check to see that your gun is loaded before you join them at the car. You crawl into the backseat, and only half listen as Dean goes over the game plan.

“… and remember, Y/N, you have to cut their heads off while they’re down, so you have to drop the super soaker and get your blade in hand pretty quickly. I don’t want to be watching your back the whole time-”

“But you will,” Sam interrupts, smiling, “even though you went over all this a billion times, you’re still going to worry. Dean, she knows her stuff, she’ll be fine. She’s a good hunter.”

“I know that!” Dean snaps defensively, “I just want to make sure we all come out of this alive. So once you’ve got that son of a bitch drenched, you slice and dice them, got that Y/N?... Y/N?... **Y/N**! Are you even listening?”

“What?” you look up at his eyes in the rear view mirror, “Yeah, Dean, cut their heads off- I got it,” you say in a tone that comes out as way more irritated than you’d intended it.

“Where are you today, babe?” Dean asks, his brow furrowing in worry, “You never chew your lip like that unless you’re worried about something.”

You silently curse how well Dean Winchester knows you, “It’s nothing, Dean. It’s just… the job, I guess.”

“Well… just, stay focused. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he assures you, but he doesn’t quite believe that you are telling the truth. When he looks away, you catch Sam’s eyes looking at you in the mirror, gazing at you intensely before he finally looks away.

The job goes off without a hitch. Well, minimal hitches, anyway. You and Dean had had to bench Sam when he started having one of his hallucination induced flip outs, and though you were capable of taking on two Leviathans on your own, it took away your advantage.

Dean acts celebratory of your victory on the way back to the motel, but once you pull into the parking lot, and Sam goes ahead into the room to try and drown out Lucifer in a hot shower, his face contorts in fury and he slams Baby’s trunk down a little too hard before kicking the curb. “I could SKIN Cas alive!” he roars.

“Well, he’s dead, Dean. Being angry won’t help Sam,” you try to reason with him.

“I’ll be as angry as I want!” he snaps, “Bastard was my FRIEND! And after all I did to make sure Sam didn’t scratch that damn wall, Cas had to go and bring the whole fucking thing tumbling down! Who knows how bad it really is? Sam sure as hell won’t tell me! What am I supposed to DO?” he punches the side of the motel in emphasis.

You go to him instinctively, running your hands up his arms, pulling him away from the wall and toward you. You embrace him, wrapping his hands around your waist and moving your hands gently up so that one rests on the back of his neck and one cradles his jaw, making him tilt his head down to look at you. Your eyes meet his for a moment before falling to look at his lips, slightly parted and waiting. You reach up and press your lips softly to his, running your tongue slowly along his bottom lip, caressing his jaw in your hand. It’s slow, and soft, and sweet, and when you pull away you smile softly at him, “It will be okay, Dean. I know you won’t let anything happen to him, and neither will I. We can figure this out. Together.”

“Y/N,” he breathes hoarsely, his voice thick with desire and frustration, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You frown, your heart sinking to your gut at his unexpected declaration, “Can’t do what, Dean?”

“Can you believe it?” he chuckles humourlessly, “I don’t want to fool around anymore. _Me!_ Ha!”

You bite your lip, “Why?”

“Because, I love you, Y/N!” Dean groans, “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know! Look, when we first slept together a couple months back when you started hunting with us, you were my rebound lay. I was just trying to get over Lisa. And I have a rule, you don’t sleep with your rebound chick twice. But you were always around, looking like… that! And smelling so good, and you’re funny, Y/N, and you know me so well. Y/N, I hate to say it, but I think I might be a relationship kind of guy now. It was nice with Lisa, y’know, but that couldn’t work. But this might be easier, because you’re in the life-”

You cut him off, “Dean!”

He stops, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Where did all of this come from?” you ask, exasperated. You are so used to Dean bottling up all of his feelings that the sudden onslaught is kind of overwhelming.

He shrugs, “I love you, Y/N. And I don’t say that. I’m really trying here. I don’t want to be just your fuck buddy anymore.”

You roll your eyes, “Dean, you were never just my fuck buddy.”

“Really?” he asks, unconvinced.

“Dean, we live together. We travel together. We hunt together. I care about you,” you sigh, thinking about Sam being alone on the other side of the motel room door, “I just- can’t right now, Dean. With- with everything going on right now, I can’t focus on this, on us. Dean, let’s just stay how we are for now, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, after a minute.

You reach up to kiss him again, “Thank you, Dean. Please, don’t think that I don’t care about you. I do. It’s just not a great time for me right now.”

“I heard you,” he dismisses gruffly, before softening, kissing the top of your head, and motioning toward the door, “Let’s go. Make sure Sam didn’t drown in there.”

* * *

 

“You really think this will work again?” Sam asks nervously, getting into bed.

“Well, is he here right now?” you ask.

He nods, gazing over your shoulder to the kitchenette area of the room.

“What’s he doing?”

“You… don’t wanna know,” Sam says, his mouth turned up in a grimace of distaste.

“Well, we won’t know if we don’t try.” You shrug, and go to kiss Dean good night before crawling under the covers with his brother.

“Night, babe,” Dean says, going over to his own bed with one last look of longing in your direction before you disappear behind Sam.

You get comfortable, with your head on his shoulder, fingers intertwined with his under the covers, and the two of you lay silently like that for a while, unmoving. After a while, you hear Dean’s snoring and you chance a look up at Sam’s face to see if he's asleep. His eyes are still wide open, and he stares up at the ceiling, jaw clenched. You sigh, and lay your head back on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him. You vow not to fall asleep until Sam does.

After about an hour or so, he starts violently shaking. You sit up, panicked, and cradle his face in your hands, turning his eyes to look at you. “Sam? Sammy? What’s wrong, are you okay? I’m right here,” you whisper worriedly.

“Are… are you real?” he asks quietly.

You bite your lip, “Yeah. Yeah, Sammy, I’m real. I’m right here.”

He lets out a long sigh of relief, shaking, “I was… trying to ignore him. So I stared straight up, but- you… you were… on the ceiling. Burning. Like my mother,” he chokes, “Like Jess.”

You hug him close, placing soft, chaste kisses on his cheeks, his jaw, his ear, his forehead, his lips, “It’s not real, Sam. I’m right here. I’m fine.”

He winds his arm around you and pulls you almost on top of him, pressing you close to him and kissing your hair, “Y/N…” he breathes.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” you whisper against his chest. He takes your jaw in one big hand and tips your head back so he can look at you. His eyes gaze into yours, wild and pleading,

“Y/N… please. _Distract_ me.”

You gasp as his fingers tangle in your hair and he yanks your head down a little too roughly and crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is fast-paced, wet, and sloppy. All tongues, and teeth, and desperate, _desperate_ need.

He lets out this quiet, drawn out, whining moan, trying to pull you closer. He takes the lip you’d been chewing on all day between his teeth and bites down hard until he draws blood.

“Sam!” you gasp, clutching at his shoulders and bucking your hips into his leg. One of his hands wanders down to grab your ass roughly, and the other jams itself between your bodies to grope under your panties. You arch your body off of his to give him easier access, and gasp as one finger slides over your clit repeatedly. He uses the hand on your ass to push your hips roughly against his again, and you feel his growing erection hard against your thigh.

You chance a look over at Dean to make sure that he is still sleeping, and breathe a sigh of relief when you see his closed eyes, open mouth, and the soft rise and fall of his chest.

Sam doesn’t seem to notice your momentary distraction, and tugs roughly at your underwear, letting out another little whine. “Off!” he growls low in your ear.

You hike one leg up and pull your panties off it, sliding them down around the ankle of the opposite leg. Lifting your hips, you shove Sam’s boxers down to his knees. His breath catches in his throat, and he lets out a low, moaning growl as you take his cock in one hand, line him up at your entrance, and sink down onto him quickly until your hips are flush with his.

“Y/N!” he gasps, bucking his hips into yours and making little, “Ah! Ah!” noises just loud enough that you cover his mouth with one hand so that he doesn’t wake Dean. You rest your other hand on his hip, half for leverage, and half to hold him down, and push yourself slowly up and off, before falling back down again. Every time you fall back down, Sam’s breath stutters and you watch his throat muscles contract as he holds back a moan. He bites the side of your hand and clutches your hips so tight that you are sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow.

“Y/N, faster!” he hisses under your hand. You pick up the pace, arching forward so you can bury your head in Sam’s neck and place nips, kisses, and licks there and to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your toes curl as you feel the heat and pressure build up and you pick up your bouncing to an almost break neck pace, moving the hand that was on Sam’s hip to your clit.

Your eyes dart over to Dean again as you feel your impending orgasm coming on, and you are mortified to see his green eyes staring intensely into yours, his hand palming his cock through his boxers. “Dean,” you whisper, too low for Sam to hear, and come shaking with a loud moan.

Your orgasm triggers Sam’s, and he comes deep inside of you, sucking in a sharp breath and clawing at your shoulders and back. You close your eyes and rest your forehead against Sam’s, both of you panting as you come down from your high.

“Is he gone?” you croak against Sam’s skin after you catch your breath.

He laughs and nods, “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you reply, climbing off of him and back to his side, “Sleep,” you command, kissing his cheek and resting your head back on his chest. His eyes slide closed and he tightens his arms around you as he drifts off into a blissful, post-sex, Satan free sleep.

Your eyes meet Dean’s across the gap from your bed to his. “I’m sorry,” you breathe.

His jaw is clenched, he looks away, but his eyes are full of lust and his hand is still on his cock. He sighs and turns over so his back is to you.


	2. Always Going to be Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are tense after the events in the motel room. You wrestle with your feelings for both the Winchester brothers, but ultimately, you knew all along who it was going to be.

He doesn’t talk to you the next day on the ride out of town and back to a small house that had once belonged to your adoptive hunter parents, but that you now used for the three of you to store your junk and crash at between hunts.

You try desperately to catch his eyes in the mirror, but he won’t even look at you. You want desperately to talk to him, to explain yourself, or defend yourself, or fight with him- hell, you’d take his anger, his full blown rage, anything but this cold, quiet nothing- but you are never alone for even a minute. There is always Sam.

Sam and Dean didn’t talk either, though Sam had no idea his brother had witnessed what had happened between you last night, the air between them was more than a little awkward, and Dean was downright hostile. After a while of nothing but almost unbearably loud classic rock blaring through the speakers as Dean sped, too fast, down the highway, Sam finally turns it down and breaks the awkward silence, “Dude, what’s up with you today?”

“What’s _up_ with me?” Dean repeats incredulously, “What’s UP with me? I’ll tell you what’s up with me, Sam-”

“Dean!” you interrupt, not wanting them to start a fight when Sam didn’t even know what was going on.

“I’m not talking to you, Y/N!” Dean snaps gruffly.

“Are you still angry because Y/N is sleeping with me?” Sam catches on, “Because if it’s going to cause problems, we won’t do it anymore. It barely even worked last night.”

“Oh, I know what worked last night!” Dean shoots back.

“Oh,” Sam flushes, his eyes darting between you and Dean as he turns sideways in his seat to look at you.

“Dean-” you start.

“He’s my fucking brother, Y/N!” he cuts you off.

You bite your lip in frustration, “Dean, we aren’t-”

“I KNOW!” he bellows, pulling over to the side of the road suddenly, putting Baby in park, and getting out, slamming the door behind him.

“Where are you going?” you ask, halfway out the door.

“To take a leak!” he roars angrily, “You wanna follow me?”

You huff and fall back into your seat, watching him head toward the trees until he is out of sight.

“So, he knows,” Sam says after a minute.

“He saw,” you tell him.

“Even better,” he sighs, “So much for backing off.”

“You weren’t in your right mind,” you defend, “And even if you were, Sam, I don’t regret it. Well, I mean, I regret hurting Dean, I do, but Sam, I-”

He shakes his head slightly, “Don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t give me hope.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, worrying your incredibly chapped, bruised bottom lip between your teeth.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says seriously, his eyes searching yours for a reaction, “And you love Dean.”

“I-” you start.

“Don’t argue, Y/N,” he says, irritated, “I know you do, I see you together. I see the way you look at him, the way you act with him, the way you touch him. When you’re with me, it’s attraction at best, with Dean, its love.”

You shake your head, “That’s not true. I care about you, Sam.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” he answers, “But as much as I wish it was, it’s nowhere near what you feel for Dean. You don’t look at me like you do at Dean. You don’t kiss me like you do Dean,” he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain, and he shakes his head, “So don’t. Don’t coddle me like you’re afraid to hurt my feelings, like you’re going to choose me, because you’re not, Y/N.”

You swallow dryly and reach over to kiss his cheek softly, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

He just shakes his head again, “Go after him.”

You’re halfway out the door again before you stop and turn back to him, “For what it’s worth, Sam, I do love you. I love you both. I can’t imagine my life without both of you in it, and I know that one comes with the other, so I’ll be fine. But, Sam, what about you? Sam, I’d do anything for you, I hope that you know that. I’m not sorry for last night because it took away your pain, and I’d do it again, Dean or no Dean, if it meant keeping you safe.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, not looking at you, “But I think we better find another solution.”

You nod, and get out of the car, not bothering to close the door, and running toward the trees where you saw Dean disappear. You collide with him as he is heading back to the car.

“Dean!” you gasp as you run smack into his chest and grip his arms tight to keep from falling over.

His arms wrap instinctively around you to protective you before he realizes he is angry with you and pushes you away gently.

“Dean, wait! Can’t we talk about this?” you plead.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, “I get it!”

“No, you don’t!” you insist.

He rounds on you, his face contorted with pain and fury as he yells, “ _This_ is why we can’t be together? You’re in love with Sam!”

You shake your head vigorously and step closer to him, “I’m in love with **you**!” you shout back.

He stops, “Then why-?”

You take a deep breath, “About a month in after I started hunting with you and Sam… after I started sleeping with you, we were on a hunt in South Dakota, do you remember?”

He nods, “Werewolf case.”

“Yes,” you agree, “and you were out dealing with it, you left me in the motel room with Sam, because you were worried the hunt would upset him since the wall in his brain had just come down. You didn’t want anything to happen to him, so you left me to watch him.”

“I remember,” he says.

“Well, I slept with him,” you tell him.

“You what?” he asks, shocked.

“Dean, we had only just started fooling around. You slept with at least three other women, I wasn’t exactly thinking we were exclusive!” you say, “It was only that once… until it wasn’t. I slept with him a second time when we were hunting those Amazons… you were off with whats-her-face- and I was, well I guess I was jealous. But then that’s when you started acting possessively of me, and stopped going out to get laid in bars. So we stopped.”

“Until last night,” Dean says.

“Until last night,” you agree, “And Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner, but I love you. I was confused before, I didn’t know what I wanted. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for Sam, deeply, but… Dean, last night happened because he was so scared. I couldn’t say no to him, the way he looked at me… like I was the only thing stopping Lucifer from getting to him. And, Dean, I think I _was_. Dean, I’m sorry. I love you. I want to be with you. If there’s anything I can do to fix this, please, tell me, I’ll do it.”

He closes his eyes and runs a hand through his short brown hair, “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m still pissed.”

“And I get that!” you hold up your hands in surrender, “Be mad! Please, be mad at me, I deserve it. Just don’t say I blew this for us forever. Say I still have a chance… I love you, Dean,” you bite your lip in anticipation of his response.

“You still have a chance,” he mumbles quietly after a few minutes of silence, “But just… give me a few days, okay? This isn’t just going to go away.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes as you feel a swell of relief. This is more than you could’ve hoped for, more than you deserved. He steps closer to you and gently cradles your face in one big hand, tugging your bottom lip out from between your teeth gently with his thumb, “And stop chewing your lip,” he whispers gruffly, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Your tongue darts out to wet the aforementioned chapped lip and brushes momentarily across the tip of his thumb. His eyes watch your tongue slide over his thumb, and moisten your bottom lip before it disappears.

“Y/N,” he breathes.

You look up at him and he turns his head away quickly when you meet his eyes, “Let’s go back.”

When you reach the car, it’s empty. Dean panics, going into full on freak out mode and looking around frantically for his brother, “Sam? Sammy! Sam!” he shouts hysterically, looking around.

You join him, calling Sam’s name out worriedly, and searching the area. You find him several feet away, just past the tree line, huddled in the fetal position on the ground. He’s shaking uncontrollably, and his arm is bleeding from a large gash that runs from wrist to elbow.

“Dean!” you call, “He’s over here! He’s hurt!”

You drop to your knees and put your hands on Sam, one on his face, one trying to pull his wounded arm gently away from his body so you can look at it, “Sammy, it’s okay, it’s me.”

“Y/N,” he acknowledges hoarsely, his trembling slowing slightly as he looks up at you, and he lets you take his arm.

Dean races up behind you, “Sammy, what happened? Are you okay?” he demands in his concerned big-brother voice.

“I’m fine,” he chokes out, getting to his feet, not wanting to seem too bad in front of his brother, “I fell.”

“You scared the shit out of me, man,” Dean says, letting out a breath like he’d been holding it since you’d discovered Sam was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, wincing as you peel back his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the wound, “And Dean, I’m sorry for-”

“Not now,” Dean interrupts, “We’re not doing this now, come on. Let’s go patch you up.”

“It’s deep,” you say, “I’m gonna have to sew it up.” You follow the boys back to the Impala, and open the trunk, pulling everything you need out of Dean’s bag. He flinches when you pour the alcohol over the cut, and you hand him the bottle after, to drink. “What did you see, anyway?” you ask as you focus on your work.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam says, not looking at you.

“Is he still there?” you press.

“He’s everywhere,” Sam snaps, “Always. All the time. I never get a moment’s peace. I-” he trails off, sighing and glancing down at his arm, “Almost done?”

You nod, slightly uneasy at Sam’s anger, “Yeah, just let me wrap it so the stitches don’t come out.” You rip a long strip out of one of Dean’s t-shirts and coil it loosely around Sam’s arm, tying it securely just above his elbow. “There,” you say, “Now be careful with it.”

He nods once and pulls the arm away from you, “Thanks.”

You frown, your lip going between your teeth unconsciously. With Dean angry with you and Sam avoiding your gaze in order to back off for Dean, things were going to be hard for you. But it was your fault, so you took it like the strong woman that you are.

You pack the stuff back up and close the trunk, climbing quickly into Baby’s backseat so you can all hit the road.

“Y/N, I liked that shirt,” Dean complains.

“I’ll buy you a new shirt,” you snap, “I think Sam’s arm is a little more important.” You didn’t mean to snap; today is just not going well for you. You should have known better, honestly, when you let Sam pull you on top of him and kiss you like that. You knew, deep down, all along that it would be Dean. You knew it would hurt him. But you were so intent on helping Sam, on giving him whatever he needed, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the hell out of yourself.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way his lips were always soft, even though he kissed so roughly, the way his tongue tasted sweet, even though he barely ever ate sugar, the way he was always warm and smelled like cinnamon, or anise, or some other spice that filled your lungs and left you dizzy, or the way his huge hands covered large expanses of your skin, the way his body easily covered and engulfed yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love _Sam_. You couldn’t lie to yourself, and you couldn’t lie to Dean.

But you DID love Dean. You were in love with him. So much so that it almost consumed you. You could feel it in your soul, a burning need to have him beside you, forever. You’d been suppressing it, ignoring it, fighting it back, but now it burned full force and it could not be ignored. You loved everything about Dean. You loved the feel of his rough hands on your skin, the feeling of his stubble brushing against your neck and cheeks as you kissed, how he always smelled and tasted like whiskey and barbecue sauce, except right after a shower when the heavenly scent of his shampoo and aftershave sent your heart into overdrive. You loved his deep, gravelly voice, his laugh, how he could go from completely serious one minute to a complete goofball the next. You loved the way he was constantly looking out for Sam, whether it was consciously or not. You loved that you could be your secretly nerdy self around him, because he was just as dorky. You loved his taste in music, in movies, in alcohol. You loved how he was always gentle, even when he was being dominant, even when you wanted him to be rough- his rough was always gentle and planned, not frantic like Sam’s was. You loved how he was so overprotective of not only you and Sam, but everyone he knew and cared about. You loved how he always knew what to say when you were down, and how he knew every button to press to rile you up, and every button to press to get you to come undone. You loved that he was a tease. You loved the way he _smiled_. You wanted to see him smile WAY more often. You wanted to make him happy so you could always see that smile.

You let out a breath as the realization completely dawns on you for the first time since all of this had started. You are completely and utterly in love with Dean Winchester.

* * *

 

It takes a few days for Dean to talk to you again, but when he does, he comes to you with that beautiful lopsided smile, wraps his arms around you and says, “Good morning, baby.”

You suck in a breath, unwilling to believe that he could have forgiven you, “You seem excited about something this morning,” you comment.

“I’m just enjoying the fact that you are finally all **mine** ,” he says in that low, grumbling voice of his, kissing you deeply before releasing you again.

You couldn’t help but have Sam and everything that had happened between you completely pushed from your mind when he smiled at you like that. You hadn’t seen him smile in months. Not even once since Bobby died. All his emotions, his sorrow, his rage, had gone into defeating the Leviathans. You were blown away, for a moment, that you could be the one thing to get past all that and really, truly make him smile.

“All yours,” you agree, smiling back at him, “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he grins, kissing you once more before going to find breakfast.

And then you remembered Sam.

You glance over to his bed where he is sitting with his head in his hands. “Hey,” you say, bringing him a cup of coffee, “Did you get any sleep?”

He shakes his head, taking the coffee from you, “Thank you,” he says monotonously.

“Sam-” you start.

“Hey,” he interrupts, giving you a weak smile, “I’m happy for you.”

You smile sadly and lean over to kiss his forehead, “Thanks, Sammy.”

“We should, uh, we should celebrate,” he says, struggling to keep his eyes open, but unable to fall asleep.

“Celebrate what?” you ask, worried about him and only half playing attention.

“You,” he says, “You and Dean.”

“Sam…” you breathe, concerned, “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

He shrugs, “He’s my brother, Y/N. I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy. So, I’ll deal.”

“I love you, Sam,” you reply without thinking.

Luckily, instead of looking hurt, he smiles, “I love you, too. And I’m happy for you, so we’re going out to celebrate.” He gets up and goes over to the kitchenette part of the motel room to talk to Dean. You watch them talk, not hearing what they’re saying, but seeing Dean smile at his brother, and you feel a rush of relief. Maybe things would be okay between the three of you after all.


	3. Anything For Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam ends up in a mental institution, you stay behind to keep an eye on him while Dean searches for a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some canon scenes and dialogue from The Born-Again Identity to ensure that canonical plot-lines are still moving along even with the Reader insert. So, I am not claiming any sort of credit for that, all that dialogue belongs solely to the wonderful writers of Supernatural. :)

Dean had thrown a fit in the doctor’s office when you couldn’t get in to see Sam. The doctor explained that he’d been in a car crash, but now he was in the locked psych ward for extreme psychosis. You groan inwardly, you were all for supporting the mental health system, but no doctor here would be able to understand what Sam was going through. No one would be able to fix it. You told the doctor that you were the boys’ sister, you knew he’d never let you in otherwise.

“Dean? Y/N?” Sam croaks as you enter his room.

“Sam, what happened?” you ask, worried.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he says, “I haven’t slept in. four… five days? Not since… that night.”

“Sam, I’m gonna find you help,” Dean says, sitting on the bed next to him.

“I don’t think it’s out there, Dean,” Sam replies.

“We don’t know that,” he says, determined.

“We know better than most,” says Sam, “It’s all snake oil, last faith healer we hooked up with had a reaper on a leash, remember?”

Dean stands up, agitated, “Yeah, Sam, I remember!”

“I’m just saying-” Sam starts.

“What?” Dean demands, “That you don’t want our help?”

“No, I’m just saying… don’t do this to yourself.” Sam looks at Dean with concern in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile inwardly at how even when he was the one who needed help, he was still worried about his brother.

“Sam, if we don’t find something-” Dean starts.

“Then, I’ll die,” Sam finishes for him.

“Don’t say that!” you growl, “You’re not going to die, Sam, we’ll fix this.”

“How?” he asks, “Y/N, we knew this was coming.”

“No,” says Dean, jaw clenched.

“When you put my soul back-”

“NO,” Dean repeats firmly.

“-Cas warned you about all the crap it would-”

“Screw Cas!” Dean yells, “Quit being Dalai friggen Yoda about this, okay? Get pissed!”

Sam sighs in defeat, “I’m too tired. This is what happens when you throw a soul into Lucifer’s dog bowl. And you think there’s just gonna be a cure out there?”

“There has to be **something**!” you exclaim, frustrated, “Lucifer’s not omnipotent, okay, he’s an angel! You’ve dealt with angel shit before. You’ve dealt with him before.”

“Y/N,” Sam sighs, “this isn’t something we can just fix.”

“No, I refuse to believe that!” you yell.

“Y/N,” Dean says, “come on.” He gestures toward the door and you give Sam one last pleading look as you follow him.

“He’s given up!” you say to him in the hall, “What are we gonna do, Dean?”

“I’m going to go back to the motel, and call everyone I’ve ever even heard of who might be able to help us with this thing,” he tells you, “And you’re going to stay here and not leave Sam’s side.”

“The doctor will never let me stay.”

“Then, convince him to let you!” Dean growls, “He needs to sleep, and if the only way he’ll sleep is with you there with him, then so be it. You HAVE to stay.”

“Dean, we don’t even know that’ll work,” you start.

“It’s a long shot, I know, but it’s the only thing we’ve got that has worked before,” he says, “Please, Y/N, I don’t know what else to do.”

You nod, “Okay,” you reach up on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Call me if you find anything.”

“I will,” he says before he leaves.

It takes a lot of convincing, but eventually, the doctor agrees to let you stay in Sam’s room.

“He’s dangerous,” the doctor warns.

“I know,” you say, “But we’ve been dealing with him ourselves for a while now.”

“And you’re sure he’ll sleep?” he asks.

You nod, though you aren’t sure at all that this will work again.

“Well,” he says, “we’ve tried everything else. Even our strongest sedatives don’t keep him out for long. If you’ve had success with this before, it may give us some insight as to what’s causing his symptoms.”

You leave his office and go back to Sam’s room, bringing some food with you.

“Y/N,” he says in surprise when you enter, “You’re still here? Where’s Dean?”

“Dean went to find you a cure,” you say with conviction, “And I am gonna stay and take care of you.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what the nurses are for,” Sam chuckles.

“Well, I’m your nurse now,” you grin, handing him the sandwich, “Here. Eat.”

He takes the sandwich and thanks you, taking one bite of it before looking at it with disgust and flinging it to the ground.

“Is it that bad?” you ask.

“No, uh,” he laughs, “I’m okay.”

You frown. “Do you want to try to sleep?” you ask.

He sighs and shrugs, “I guess.”

He gets into bed and you crawl in beside him, pressing yourself against his side and laying your head on his shoulder, reaching up to rhythmically smooth his hair back soothingly as he lets his eyes slide closed, “Sleep, Sam,” you murmur, “I’m right here.”

It’s quiet for a while, and you begin to think he’s fallen asleep, but then he opens his eyes and looks over at you, “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Why did you stay?” he asks.

You blink in surprise, “What do you mean? I stayed to take care of you. To help you sleep.”

“But Dean-”

“It was Dean’s idea,” you affirm, “He cares more about your health than his jealousy.”

You turn onto your side to face him so you can look in his eyes, propped partly up on one elbow to match his height where he reclined against the pillows.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I never meant to get between you and Dean… not really. If I had known that first time that he loved you, I would never have-”

“Don’t do that, Sam. He didn’t love me then, or the time after that, as far as I know. And I don’t regret it. I don’t want to forget it. You’re so important to me, Sam,” you tell him, “And that night… that night wasn’t your fault, it was mine. You were desperate, you weren’t in your right mind, but I made the decision to do it, knowing full well how Dean felt about me.”

“I never meant to cause problems,” Sam mumbles.

“It worked out fine, Sam,” you assure him, “Now sleep.”

He sighs and lets his head fall back down to the pillow. You crawl up the bed and closer to him, and cradle his head close to your chest, letting your head fall back against the wall. “I love you, Y/N,” Sam whispers, half dead from exhaustion, “I think I’ll always love you.”

“Ssh,” you soothe, smoothing his hair back and kissing his head.

He falls asleep in your lap.

* * *

 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you shift, careful not to wake Sam, who was asleep in your lap for the third time now!

The doctors were astounded that it was working. One had decided that his insomnia stemmed from some sort of stressor on your relationship, and that he needed to feel closer to you in order for his symptoms to go away.

“Do you get in a lot of fights with your brother?” the doctor had asked.

“No,” you’d answered truthfully, since you and Sam barely ever fought- not like you did with Dean.

“Were you ever separated for a long period of time?”

“No.”

“Is the relationship between you and Sam closer than the one he has with Dean?”

You’d hesitated, “No,” you’d said, “I definitely would not say closer. The relationship he has with Dean is close… very close, and very strong. I don’t think they’d be able to survive without each other. Our relationship is… different,” you’d answered truthfully.

“Different how?”

“We’re close,” you’d answered, trying to pick your words carefully so you still sounded like his sister, and so the doctor would have no reason to believe you were incestuous, “It’s just a different sort of bond than he has with Dean. Probably because I’m the only girl, and the youngest.”

The doctor had nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, “And would you say that Sam is overprotective of you?”

“Oh, yes!” you had chuckled.

The doctor had nodded again, “Thank you, Miss Smith.”

“You’re welcome, doctor.”

You didn’t know if there was any psychological rhyme or reason to what was happening in Sam’s noggin. This wasn’t exactly a medical issue. But if the doctors, by some miracle, could offer Sam any help, you were glad to comply.

You pull the phone out of your pocket, hit answer, and hold it to your ear, “Hello?” you whisper.

“Y/N,” you hear Dean’s voice on the other end of the line, “I may have found something.”

“What is it?” you ask, your heart jumping into your throat.

“A faith healer,” he says, “Now, I know, he’s probably a giant fraud, but apparently this guy is legit. His name is Emmanuel. I’m gonna go check him out, see if he’s the real deal.”

“Okay,” you say, “I hope he is.”

“Me too, babe,” Dean sighs, “I’m grasping at my last straws here. How is Sam?”

“Asleep!” you tell him happily.

“That’s my girl!” you could hear his grin in his voice, he sighs, “I’m glad he’s sleeping. Uh… but can I ask how-”

“I didn’t sleep with him, Dean,” you say, “I’m sure the hospital has rules against it, besides, everyone here thinks I’m your sister.”

“Well, good,” he says, “Keep doing what you’re doing, then. I’ll call you when I meet this Emmanuel.”

“Okay, drive safe,” you tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You hang up and look down to see Sam looking up at you, “How’s Dean?”

“Damn it, Sam, you’re supposed to be asleep,” you sigh, shifting as Sam gets up off of your lap, “Dean is fine. He’s going to check out this faith healer everyone thinks is legit.”

Sam makes a grunting noise of disbelief in the back of his throat.

“Don’t scoff, Sam,” you say hopefully, “He COULD be real!”

“Okay, let’s say he is,” Sam says, “there’s still no guarantee that he can help me. Whatever’s going on in my mind… it’s not exactly something anyone’s seen before.”

“It’s just memories from the cage messing with your mind, Sam,” you try to say.

“It’s not just memories though, Y/N,” he shakes his head, talking over you, “Lucifer is sitting right there. Right there in that chair. I can see him as clearly as I can see you. He’s upset because I found a way to sleep and broke the rules of his game. Well, no, he’s not upset; he says he’s just planning his next form of torture. Says this isn’t fun for him anymore.”

You frown, “Well Lucifer’s gonna have to try pretty hard if he’s gonna beat me,” you say, “No matter what he does to you, Sam, I’m gonna find a way to fix it.”

“He says you’ve got pretty big balls for a chick,” Sam chuckles.

“Yes, I do!” you smile proudly, “He’s not real, Sam. He can’t hurt you, not really. And whatever game he wants to play in that head of yours, I’ll find a way to break the rules.”

Sam smiles at you and nods, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Sam. Anything.”

He swallows hard, looking away from you, “Y/N… I don’t think I can stay with you and Dean after this is all over. **If** this is ever over.”

“What?” you bite your lip, “What are you talking about?”

“It hurts too much, Y/N. I love you both, I want you to be happy together, I’m _glad_ you’re happy together, but I don’t think I can hang around and watch as you love him,” he says.

“You can’t leave, Sam. I need you. _Dean_ needs you. You can’t just up and go!” you grab his hand as if trying to stop him from physically leaving.

He smiles sadly down at your hands, “How am I ever going to get over you if I have to see you every day?”

You roll your lip between your teeth, eyes welling with tears, “Don’t go,” you whisper weakly.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice a warning.

“Please,” you whisper, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You have Dean.”

“I don’t know what _Dean_ would do without you, Sam, please!”

He holds his hand up in surrender, “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it right now. How about we just wait and see what Dean finds out about this faith healer, okay?”

You nod, “Okay.”

“Don’t chew your lip,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb over the side of your face as he cups your face in one big hand. You let out a little hysterical giggle at the similarity between this moment and the one you shared with his brother just days before. You lean into his touch, eyes slipping closed.

“Y/N,” Sam mutters, “When is the last time that **you** slept?”

You shrug, “Yesterday? The day before? I’ve been watching over you.”

He laughs, sliding down in the bed and holding his arms open for you, “Come here,” he says quietly, “Let’s go to sleep.”


	4. Thank God for... Emmanuel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out who Emmanuel really is and the team comes to save Sam. You have some more conflicting interaction with Sam that leaves you both hurt and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More canonical scenes and dialogue in this chapter as well, but that's the last of it!

“Are you sure it’s Cas?” you ask, disbelief evident in your voice.

“What do you mean; am I sure? Of course I’m sure! I know Cas when I see him!” Dean replies heatedly.

“But… how?” you ask.

“Hell if I know,” Dean says, “but it’s him. He doesn’t seem to know who he is though, or who I am.”

“Well, you should tell him,” you say.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asks, “Dude’s an asshole! He did this to Sam in the first place! Who knows what he’ll do if he remembers? I’d much rather deal with Emmanuel or whatever.”

“Whatever, it’s your call, Dean,” you cave, knowing your incredibly stubborn boyfriend wouldn’t listen to you anyway, “I’ll see you both when you get here then.”

“Yeah, bye,” he says before hanging up the phone.

You sigh and shake your head. You know Cas would probably feel incredibly sorry for what he did to Sam if he were truly himself again, and you’re sure that if Dean would just explain it to him everything would be okay. But of course, Dean’s anger and pride would get the better of him and he wouldn’t take your advice.

You look down at Sam where he’s sleeping curled against your chest. At least… you thought he was sleeping, but when you look down, he’s looking at you with wide, scared eyes, and shaking slightly.

“Sam?” you ask worriedly, “Are you okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, “Go away,” he says weakly.

“What?” you ask, shocked.

“Go away!” he shouts, pushing himself off of you, “Go away! Go away! **Go away!** ”

You realize that he is not talking to you, and you slide closer to him and rest your hands on his shoulders, sliding them soothingly up and down his arms, “Sammy, it’s okay. He’s not real. He’s not there.”

“Do you know what the cage was like, Y/N?” he asks quietly after a minute.

You shake your head, a lump forming in your throat.

“It was the worst thing you can imagine,” he whispers, “Lucifer… tortured me in ways I had never seen, never even thought of. Just when I thought he was finished, he’d start right back up again. You don’t… you don’t sleep in the cage… you don’t pass out from the pain. There’s no relief. There’s nothing to stop you from feeling it.”

“Sam…”

“Half-” he swallows, and takes a shaky breath, “Half the time… he was Dean. He _looked_ like Dean. And he… he would say all of these terrible things while he tortured me. I’m not going to repeat them; you don’t need to hear it, I just… God, Y/N, sometimes I think I’m still there. Even now, sometimes I can’t- can’t tell what’s real.”

“ **I’m** real,” you promise, grabbing his hand, “This is real. We’re here, right now. You’re here. You’re not in Hell, you’re not with Lucifer. I promise.”

“When you first showed up in our lives, I was so messed up I didn’t know what was what. I thought Lucifer had just made you up to torture me,” he says, whispering even more quietly now and not meeting your eyes, “And then you touched me. You kissed me. And everything… everything from Hell just melted away. You touch me, Y/N… and I know what’s real. You’re the only thing I can tell is real.”

You bite your lip and try so hard not to cry in front of Sam, but you can’t help it. Hot tears pour involuntarily down your face and drip onto your entwined hands.

“I don’t want to leave, Y/N,” he continues, “but watching you with Dean, as glad as I am that he’s finally happy, it’s just another torture.”

“Sam…” you whisper again. You can’t help it. You love him so much, you love both of these boys so much, and you cannot bear to see him in pain. So, without thinking, you lean forward and crush your lips softly against his. He gasps softly, and his hand tightens around yours, the other coming up to tangle itself in your hair. He kisses you back gently for once, slowly, breathing you in and savouring your tongue on his. You break away after a minute, but keep your forehead leaning against his, noses brushing.

“Y/N,” he breathes, “you can’t.”

“I can’t see you like this,” you whisper, “I can’t let you feel like this. Sam, I love you too much.”

“But… Dean,” he says.

You sigh and lean away from him, “I know. You’re right. I can’t- I can’t do this to Dean. I love Dean.”

He swallows, “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you shake your head, “I did. I just can’t bear to see you in pain, Sam, and I don’t know what else to do. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything… anything you need, anything I can do, I’ll do it, Sam.”

“Would you do that for Dean?” he asks quietly.

“Of course I would! I would give my life for you both, don’t you see, Sam?” you laugh humourlessly, “I’m clearly a part of the team now.”

He sighs, “How’d my life get like this?”

“Well, I think it started when you were born,” you joke.

“Yeah,” he laughs.

“I can’t do that again,” you say after a while of silence.

“I know,” he says, “I never expected you to.”

“I don’t want you to leave, Sam,” you say again.

“I know.”

You clench your teeth together in an effort not to bite your lip again and look away from him, “I’m going to run back to the motel and grab more clothes. Will you be okay for a couple hours?”

He nods, “Yeah… yeah, Y/N, I should be fine.”

Your hands shake and your nails dig into the palm of your hands as you walk the fair distance back uptown to the motel. Your phone buzzes and you fish it out again and answer it, not bothering to steady the emotion in your voice, “Yes?”

“Y/N?” Dean sounds concerned, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, sighing, “What’s up?”

“We’re on our way there,” Dean says, electing not to push you for information on what was upsetting you right now.

“You and…?” you prompt, hoping he’d taken your advice.

“Emmanuel,” he says firmly, “And Meg.”

“ _Meg_?” you ask, shocked, “Why the hell is Meg with you?”

“Aw, tell her I’m just tickled to see her, too,” you hear Meg’s voice in the background.

“I take it Meg and your girlfriend don’t get along very well,” you hear Cas’ voice observe.

“She’s got this thing about demons…” Meg says.

“Okay, new rule,” Dean grunts, “No one talks but the guy on the phone! Thank you!”

“So?” you ask, irritated, “Meg?”

“Look, Y/N, she wanted to help,” he starts.

“Right, because trusting demons has worked out **so** well for you in the past!”

“I’m not exactly happy about it either, Y/N, okay? But it’s done. She’s here. We’re on our way! We should be there in a few hours,” he sighs, “How’s Sam?”

“Sam’s… fine,” you mumble.

“What happened?” he asks, concern creeping back into his voice.

“Nothing,” you say, biting your lip, “We can talk about it when you get here. Just… get here fast, okay?”

“Already speeding, baby,” he assures you.

You smile, “I know you are. Say hi to… Emmanuel for me.”

You hang up, feeling only slightly better than you had before he’d called. At least there was hope for Sam. But what would happen once he was cured? You know it’s selfish to want him to stay when he’s in pain, but you can’t imagine life without him. You can’t imagine how Dean would feel with his brother gone.

You sigh, hoping that everything would work out, hoping that Dean would be there soon.

* * *

 

“Dean, thank god!” you run out to the car to meet him, almost jumping for joy when you see the Impala pull up.

“Hey, baby,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you hello, “This is… Emmanuel,” he says awkwardly, gesturing at Cas.

“Hello,” he says, smiling awkwardly.

“Y/N,” Meg greets.

“Meg,” you acknowledge with hostility.

“You wanna tell me how so many demons get by on your watch?” Meg asks, smiling at you menacingly.

“They’re all demons?” you ask, frowning and looking over at the hospital incredulously, “I exorcized two in the parking lot earlier… they tried to attack me. I thought it was weird that no one seemed to notice…”

“You exorcised two demons on your own, with no back up?” Dean looks at you with something like pride in his eyes.

“What are you getting at, Winchester?” you ask jokingly, “I am a fully capable hunter!”

“I’m sure you are,” Meg cuts in, “but why don’t we cut the honeymoon short and focus on the task at hand, hm?”

“How many of those knives do you have?” Cas asks.

“Just the one,” says Dean.

“Well, then… forgive me, but- what do we do?” he asks, looking worried.

“Yeah, Dean. Got any other ideas how we could _blast_ through that?” Meg not-so-subtly comments.

Dean gives her a look, “Excuse us,” he says to Cas/Emmanuel, and takes you both away from him a few feet. He shoots Meg a ‘shut up’ look.

“Sam’s in there!” Meg points out to him, “I know you’re enjoying the double dip with your old pal, but-”

“You think it’s really that cut and dry?” Dean interrupts, ”Really?”

“I hate to say this, Dean,” you start, “but I agree with Meg.”

“Ha!” Meg gloats.

“You know what he did, Y/N!” Dean says, “And you want to tell him and just hope that he takes it in stride? He could snap! He could… disappear! Who knows?”

“I gather we know each other,” you hear from behind you and the three of you turn to see Cas standing there.

“Just a dollop,” Meg smiles.

“You can tell me. I’ll be fine,” he assures Dean.

“How do you know?” he asks, “You just met yourself! I’ve known you for years!”

“You’re an Angel,” Meg interrupts to cut to the chase.

“I’m sorry?” Cas looks at her in confusion, “Is that a flirtation?”

“No, it’s a species,” snorts the demon, “A powerful one.”

“She’s not lying, okay?” Dean says with desperation in his voice, “That’s why you heal people. You don’t eat. I’m sure there’s more.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Cas asks, “Being an Angel- it sounds pleasant.”

You laugh.

“It’s not, trust me,” Dean shakes his head, “It’s bloody, it’s corrupt. It’s not pleasant.”

“He would know,” Meg butts in, “You used to fight together. Bestest friends, actually,” she smiles.

“We’re… friends?” Cas furrows his brow, looking concerned, “Am I Cas?” he asks, “I… I had no idea. I don’t remember you, I’m sorry.”

“Look,” says Meg, “You got the juice. You can smite every demon in that lot.”

“But… I don’t remember how,” the angel says sadly.

“It’s in there,” Dean claps him on the shoulder, “I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike.”

“I don’t know how to do that either,” Cas takes a deep breath, “Alright. I’ll try.”

Cas walks toward the lot and Dean steps up beside you and sighs, “This ain’t gonna go well.”

The three of you watch as Castiel kills his way through every demon on the lot. There are several bursts of bright light, and screams from the demons as they meet their demise. As the last demon falls, the three of you run up to him. He turns and looks at you with a tortured look in his eyes, meeting Dean’s gaze, “I remember you,” he says, “I remember everything.”

“That’s great, Cas,” you say, grabbing his arm, “Now, we gotta save Sam.”

You run down the hall with Cas and Dean at your sides, and stop outside Sam’s room. Cas looks in hesitantly at Sam before turning to Dean, “What I did, what I became- why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because Sam is dying in there!” Dean explains.

“Because of me!” Cas exclaims, “Everything, all these people. I shouldn’t be here,” he turns to leave.

“Cas!” Dean calls, running after him, “Wait here,” he says.

You barrel after them anyway, leaving Meg behind, “Cas! Please! Don’t go!” you cry.

“Why should I stay?” he asks sadly.

“Because Sam needs you!” you plead.

“Sam is in there because of me, Y/N!” he replies.

“If you remember, then you know you did the best you could do at the time,” says Dean.

“Don’t defend me,” Cas says, “Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth?” he sighs and looks Dean in the eyes, “We didn’t part friends, Dean.”

“So, what?” Dean asks.

“I deserved to die. Now, I can’t possibly fix it,” Cas says, “So why did I even walk out of that river?”

“Maybe to fix it,” Dean says, reaching over to open the trunk of the Impala, “Wait,” he pulls Cas’ trench coat out of the trunk and holds it out to him, “Here. This is yours.”

Cas takes it hesitantly, “Dean…”

“We’ve all made mistakes, Cas,” Dean says quietly, “We’ve all done some pretty fucked up things. When you’re sorry, you fix it. Don’t walk out on us now, man. Sam needs you. Please. You can’t let my brother die.”

After a minute, Cas nods, “You’re right.”

* * *

 

When you go back in, Sam isn’t in his room. “Where the hell did they take him?” Dean roars.

“They wheeled him that way,” Meg points.

“No!” you gasp, “That’s the electrotherapy room!” you run toward the room, Dean and Cas at your heels.

“Sam!” Dean yells. When you bust in, the demon is about to turn the machine on, but Castiel kills him in time. You rush to Sam’s side, pulling the equipment from his head and taking his hands in yours. ”Sam! Oh, Sam!” you fuss.

“Y/N,” he croaks, “Next time, don’t leave.”

“Never,” you promise, “Never again, Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“I should never have broken your wall, Sam,” says Cas, looking down at Sam sorrowfully, “I’m here to make it right.” He lays two fingers on Sam’s forehead and closes his eyes… but nothing happens.

“Did it work?” Dean asks nervously.

“I can’t,” Cas replies, “I can’t heal him.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Dean yells. Sam is freaking out, completely convinced that Castiel is Lucifer. He shakes in your arms and tries to curl into you.

“I mean, there’s nothing left to rebuild,” Cas clarifies.

“Why not?” Dean asks.

“Because it crumbled,” Cas says, “the pieces got crushed to dust by whatever’s happening in his head right now.”

Dean looks at Castiel in desperation, “So you’re saying there’s nothing? That he’s gonna be like this until his candle blows out?”

“I’m sorry,” says Cas, “This isn’t a problem I can make disappear. And you know that,” he pauses for a moment, thinking, “But I may be able to shift it,” he says with determination, going over to where Sam is laying in your arms.

“Shift?” asks Dean.

“Yeah, it’ll get Sam back on his feet,” says Cas, “It’s better this way… I’ll be fine.”

“Wait, Cas… what are you doing?” Dean asks.

“Now, Sam,” says Cas, taking Sam’s arm, “This may hurt. And, if I can tell you again… I’m sorry I ever did this to you.”

You watch as something seems to leave Sam and drain its way into Castiel. He trembles in your arms, yelling out in pain, or surprise. He slumps in your arms and Cas falls back, looking up with wild eyes.

“Sam!” Dean yells, concerned.

“Dean?” Sam asks, looking up at the scene around him with clear eyes for the first time, “Cas? Cas… is that you?”

Cas freaks out, breaking away from Sam.

“What happened?” Sam asks.

“I think he took your crazy,” you say, looking sadly at Castiel.

“What do we do?” he asks.

“He could stay here,” Dean suggests, “He’ll be safe until we know what to do. I’m gonna go check you out.”

Dean leaves and you look at Sam, “Sam…”

“I know,” he smiles sadly, “Don’t tell Dean.”


	5. Does He Make You Feel This Way?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You confess what happened between you and Sam to Dean, and his jealousy and anger bleed into the bedroom. Sam leaves, and you aren't sure you'll be okay without him.

“Dean… I have to tell you something,” you say, later when you’re packing up the motel room to hit the road again.

“What?” he asks, loading bags into the trunk of the Impala.

“Dean,” you put a hand on his arm to stop him and make him look at you, biting your lip, you look up at him with worry in your eyes.

“Y/N,” he says, “What’s wrong?”

“I kissed Sam.”

“You did more than kiss him, Y/N,” he grunts, “I’m… over it.”

You shake your head, “No, I mean, after that. In the hospital.”

His jaw clenches and he looks away for a minute before sighing and turning back to you, “Well, you did what you had to do, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, Dean, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care,” he says, “It’s fine.”

“Dean… Sam told me… he told me he was in love with me,” you whisper.

Dean freezes, and slams Baby’s trunk down.

“Dean-”

He stalks back into the motel room, anger plain on his face.

“Dean, don’t!” you cry, following him as he approaches Sam.

Sam stands up and looks between the two of you, seemingly understanding what’s going on, “Dean, I can explain.”

“You love her,” Dean says, his voice low and dangerous.

Sam nods, “I do.”

Dean swallows, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists, “So what now?”

“I think I should go,” Sam tells him.

“No!” you shout.

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” Dean says, ignoring you.

“Okay,” Sam nods once, shouldering his bag, “I’ll go then. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m sorry, too,” he says, staring his brother down. Sam leaves, not saying goodbye to you as he walks out of the motel room, past the Impala and down the street. You bite your lip so hard that it bleeds.

“Dean,” you say quietly.

“Let’s go,” he says calmly, still not looking at you.

“How _could_ you?” you ask, “After all we did to get him back!” you yell at him.

“How could **I**?” he yells, “How could YOU? How can you kiss him? How can you _fuck_ him? Knowing I love you? Knowing HE loves you, and yet choosing to be with me? Why did you choose me?” his voice breaks, “You _are_ with me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

You nod, “Yes, Dean, I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

“Prove it!” he growls.

Without thinking, you’re inches from him, reaching up on your tiptoes and crushing your lips to his. You throw your arms around his neck, desperately pulling him closer, as close as you can get. For a minute, he doesn’t respond, just stays frozen under your lips, jaw clenched and angry. Then he opens his mouth, his tongue darting out to engulf yours. His arms wind around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer and lifting you off of your feet. The kiss is rough and angry, his hands clutch you so tightly that it hurts, but you don’t care. He backs you up so that you’re pinned against the wall. You break away from the kiss for a breath and his mouth angrily attaches to your neck, teeth biting down hard, an sucking so that he leaves big, angry, purple marks.

“Dean,” you moan.

He growls and rips your shirt off- you were wearing one of his- and the buttons scatter everywhere as it falls off of your shoulders. He palms your breast roughly as his knee slips between your thighs and is shoved against your center. You suck in a breath in surprise and moan, burying your face in his neck and clutching his shoulders as you grind your hips against his thigh.

“Look at how desperate you are for me, Y/N,” he growls, low and quiet in your ear, moving his knee back and forth between your legs. Your hips cant up, trying to gain friction against his leg. He holds them against the wall, “Does Sam make you feel this way? Does Sam make you this wet for him?”

“No,” you breathe.

“That’s right,” he growls, opening the button on your jeans and shoving them down, “because you’re all _mine_.”

You kick your jeans off and pull at the hem of his shirt to indicate that you want it off as well. He complies. You watch his stomach, chest, and arms, as we pulls the t-shirt over his head. As soon as it’s off, your hands are on him, exploring his skin, running over his chest, his back, gripping his biceps. He grabs your wrists in one big hand and pulls them away from his body, pinning them above your head. He leans close to you, pinning your hips to the wall with his own. He nips your ear, your neck, running his tongue over the bite, his breath hot and uneven on your skin. He shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear and pushes two fingers into you, his thumb making gentle circles around your clit.

“Tell me you want him,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, his green eyes so dark and lust blown that they’re almost black, “Tell me you would rather be fucking my brother right now.”

“No,” you moan, “Dean!”

“Tell me!” he roars.

“I don’t want him!” you pant, “I only want you, Dean. I’m yours. Please!”

“Please what, Y/N?” he asks.

“Please,” you gasp, “Fuck me!”

He removes his hand from you and unbuttons his jeans one handed, pushing them partway down his thighs, just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your thigh and pulls it up to wrap around his hip, then pushes your panties to the side and slides into you in one quick thrust. “Y/N!” he groans.

“Dean,” you breathe, aching to clutch at him, your hands twitching in his grasp to be free. He starts his pace slow, but rough. Dragging himself out of you torturously slowly until only the tip remained, then slamming his hips back into yours. You moan every time he enters you, trying desperately to push your hips into his to make it harder, faster, **more** … but he’s holding them down again.

“Does… Sam… fuck you… like… this?” he asks, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips, “Can he… make you… feel… this… good?”

You can only moan in response.

“I don’t care,” he grunts, “if he loves you. I don’t care… if he’s my brother. You. Are. **Mine**.”

The hand on your hips moves to your clit, and he picks up his pace, slamming his hips into yours repeatedly as his fingers tease your clit. The other hand finally releases your wrists and his fingers dig into your thigh as he hikes it even higher to pull you closer to him.

“Come for me,” Dean growls, “Come harder than you ever did for him.”

“Dean!” you moan, coming undone around him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He comes at the same time, his hips flush with yours, your name on his lips. You hang off of him for a minute, panting, before kissing him deeply and then breaking away to pull your clothes back on.

He huffs, trying to catch his breath as he does his jeans back up and pulls his shirt back on, his eyes still dark and full of lust. He swallows, “He ever make you feel like that?”

You shake your head, searching his eyes for some hint of forgiveness.

“Good,” he grunts, “Let’s keep it that way.”

You follow him out to the car and crawl into the back seat to sleep on the road. He stares back at you in the mirror every once in a while as you fall asleep.

“Y/N,” he asks, “Do you love him?”

“Yeah,” you don’t lie to him, “But not like you, Dean. I wanna be with you. But this… him not being here, with both of us, it isn’t right.”

“Yeah,” he says, and drops it.

“Do you still love me?” you whisper nervously.

“I’ll always love you, Y/N,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “As long as you want me.”

“I’ll always want you,” you say, closing your eyes and resting your head against the back of the seat, your legs curled up across the seat, feet pressed against the door.

“Go to sleep, babe,” he murmurs.

You mumble incoherently in response and fall asleep to quietly playing classic rock and Baby’s tires on the road.

* * *

 

About two months later, you were in Minnesota following a lead on the Leviathans. Without Sam, you got stuck with research, and you hated it. Well, no, you enjoyed learning and you certainly wanted to defeat Dick Roman, but this sort of research was tedious… and it reminded you too much of Sam.

You’d been tiptoeing around the subject for two days now, knowing Dean was probably still not over it, but you could tell he missed his brother.

“Dean, just call him,” you’d made the mistake of saying when Dean had accidentally ordered three meals instead of two and came back from the takeout counter with two burgers and a salad.

“No!” he snapped, and immediately thrown the entire order in the trash. You’d left without eating.

Now, you were driving up to a large factory where there was confirmation of Leviathan activity. You were honestly a little terrified, there were only two of you now and there were dozens of Leviathans inside.

But when you pull up outside the building, you see a familiar face getting out of another car.

“Sam!” you call, running over and stopping short before you hug him, instead just smiling wide and saying, “I’m happy to see you.”

He smiles, “It’s nice to see you, too, Y/N. Dean,” he acknowledges as Dean walks up behind you.

“Sam,” Dean grunts.

You roll your eyes at their display of male egotism, “Dean misses you,” you tell Sam, “He… **we** want you to come home.”

Sam laughs, “Dean wants that, does he?”

Dean grunts but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, Sam… Dean,” you say, “I never wanted to come between you. I don’t want to be that girl. You guys need to stay together, you’re family… and you’re the only family you’ve got. You can’t… you can’t choose me over each other. I won’t let you. Dean, I love you, but if it’s easier… _I’ll_ leave. Then you won’t have to see me anymore, Sam.”

“No!” Dean exclaims, at the same time that Sam says, “Y/N!”

“I didn’t… _choose_ you over my brother,” Dean says gruffly, not looking at you, “It isn’t a choice, Y/N, it isn’t an either-or thing. We just… we’re in a fight, or something.”

“We aren’t in a fight, Dean,” Sam says, “I’m not mad at you. I have no intention of coming back.”

“Why not?” Dean asks.

“Because, Dean,” Sam says, “I’m not going to be the third wheel all the time. I’m sorry, but I love her. And she didn’t choose me, and I’m okay with that, I’m moving on… but why should I just throw myself back in the middle of that?”

“You’re not in the middle of anything, Sam, Y/N’s with me,” Dean says.

“Sam,” you say, “Please, it’s only been two months, and we miss you. We both miss you. I know, it’s not what you wanted-”

“No,” he starts.

“-but we’re a family. The three of us. This team doesn’t work without you.”

“Come on, man,” Dean says, “Family business.”

Sam sighs and looks away for a minute before meeting your eyes. You bite your lip. “Fine,” he says.

You grin, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says.

Dean smiles at him and claps him on the shoulder, “Come on, then, let’s go kick some ass.”

You smile, and your eyes flicker between your boys, relief bubbling up in your chest.

Finally, things might be okay… at least for a little while. You meet Sam’s eyes for a moment, and you bite your lip for completely different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here it is; the end of part 1! I'll try to have the next two Parts up in the next couple of days. I hope everyone is enjoying it.


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